Dawn broke over York with a pale gray light.
Alex stood at the edge of the market square, watching vendors set up their stalls. The air smelled of bread baking, of fish from the river, of unwashed bodies and animal dung. Normal. Ordinary. Like any other morning.
Except it wasn't.
'This has to work,' Alex thought, his hands clenched in his pockets. 'If Bess didn't get the money to everyone. If Thomas doesn't come through. If the crowd doesn't turn...'
He forced himself to breathe. Too late to second-guess now.
Edmund arrived precisely at dawn, just as he'd promised. He wore another expensive coat, this one deep burgundy with gold thread at the cuffs. His hair was freshly oiled, his boots polished. He looked like a man ready to show off his empire.
Two bodyguards followed him. The older one with the missing ear, his hand already resting on his club. And Thomas. Thomas's face was carefully blank, but when his eyes met Alex's for just a second, something passed between them.
A nod. Almost imperceptible.
He was in.
"Punctual!" Edmund said cheerfully, striding over with his hand extended. "I like that in a business partner. Shows discipline."
Alex shook his hand. "You said dawn. I'm here."
"Excellent, excellent." Edmund gestured broadly at the market around them. "Welcome to where it all happens. This is the heart of York's commerce. Everything flows through here. Goods, money, labor." He smiled. "People."
"Impressive."
"It is, isn't it?" Edmund started walking, expecting Alex to follow. "You see that warehouse over there? That's mine. And that one. And those three stalls selling grain? I hold the debt on all of them. They work for me whether they know it or not."
Alex followed, his eyes scanning the crowd. More people than usual for this early. And they were watching Edmund. Watching closely.
The older bodyguard noticed too. His eyes swept the crowd with professional suspicion. "Master Weston, perhaps we should..."
"Nonsense, Gerald. These are my people. They know better than to cause trouble." Edmund kept walking, oblivious or uncaring.
Edmund was still talking, pointing out his various holdings and deals, when the first person approached.
A middle-aged man, thin and worn-looking, stepped directly into Edmund's path. He held out a small leather pouch.
"Master Weston," the man said. His voice was shaking slightly. "I have your money. The twelve silver I borrowed. It's all here."
Edmund stopped, surprised. "Robert? What are you doing?"
"Paying my debt." Robert thrust the pouch forward. "Twelve silver. Count it if you want. It's all there."
Edmund took the pouch slowly, confusion crossing his face. "I... the payment isn't due for another month."
"I'm paying it now." Robert's voice was firmer. "And I want my son back."
"Your son is working off the..."
"My debt is paid. I want him back. Today."
Before Edmund could respond, another person pushed forward. A woman, older, with callused hands.
"Master Weston!" She held out another pouch. "Fifteen silver. What I owe you. Take it."
Edmund's confusion was turning to irritation. "Margaret, what is this? Why is everyone..."
"Here!" Another voice. A young man this time. "Eight silver! The debt my father left! Take it!"
"And mine!" A woman with a baby on her hip. "Six silver!"
"Twenty silver here!"
"Eleven!"
They were coming from everywhere now. People pushing forward, thrusting pouches of money at Edmund. His bodyguards stepped closer, hands on their clubs, but the crowd wasn't threatening. Not yet. They were just paying.
'Thank god June can fabricate precious metals,' Alex thought, watching the scene unfold. 'Lucky I had enough raw material stored to convert. Otherwise none of this would've worked.'
Edmund's face was red with confusion and anger. "What is the meaning of this?! Where did you all get this money?!"
"Does it matter?" Robert said. "You're getting paid. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"
"The debts aren't all due yet! There are payment schedules, terms..."
"We're paying now." Robert's voice was hard. "So give us back what you took."
"What I took? I didn't take anything! You gave..."
"My son." Robert stepped closer. "You took my son as collateral. I've paid my debt. Give him back."
"And my daughter," Margaret said. "I've paid. She's mine."
"My wife's wedding ring!"
"My father's tools!"
"My land deed!"
The crowd was getting louder now. More aggressive. Edmund was surrounded by people demanding their collateral, their property, their family members.
"This is absurd!" Edmund shouted over them. "You can't just pay whenever you feel like it! There are contracts! Legal agreements!"
"Legal?" Robert laughed bitterly. "Like it was legal when you beat my son for dropping a plate? When you worked him sixteen hours a day? When you starved him for talking back?"
Edmund's expression hardened. "Your son needed discipline. He was lazy, disrespectful..."
"He's ten years old!" Robert's voice cracked. "He's a child!"
"He's collateral until your debt is settled! That's the contract!"
The crowd went silent.
Then someone spat at Edmund's feet.
"Collateral," a voice said from the crowd. "That's all we are to you. Property to be used."
Edmund's face twisted with rage. "You're damn right! I hold your debts! I own what you put up as surety! That's how business works! That's how it's always worked!"
"Business." Margaret's voice was cold. "Is that what you call beating children? Starving them? Working them until they collapse?"
"I do what's necessary to protect my investments! To maintain order and..."
"You're a monster," Robert said quietly.
Edmund's hand shot out and backhanded him across the face.
The crack echoed across the market square. Robert stumbled back, blood springing from his lip.
The older bodyguard, Gerald, immediately stepped forward and swung his club at the nearest person. "Back away! All of you! Back..."
Thomas's club came down on the back of Gerald's head with a solid thunk.
Gerald dropped like a stone.
The crowd gasped. Edmund spun around, eyes wide.
"Thomas?! What the fuck are you..."
"I'm done," Thomas said simply. He bent down, hoisting Gerald over his shoulder with a grunt. "I'll take care of him. He'll live." He looked at the crowd, then at Edmund. "But you? You're on your own."
Thomas turned and walked away, carrying the unconscious Gerald through the parting crowd.
Edmund watched him go, his face pale with shock and dawning terror.
The crowd erupted.
People surged forward, shouting. Edmund tried to run but hands grabbed him from every direction. They dragged him to the ground.
"NO! Get off me! I'll have you all arrested! I'll..."
A fist connected with his jaw and Edmund's head snapped to the side.
Then another fist. And another.
They dragged him up to his knees. Two men gripped his arms, holding him in place while others pressed forward.
"Please!" Edmund's voice was high, panicked. The smugness was gone, replaced by raw terror. "Please, I'll return everything! The collateral, the children, all of it! Just stop!"
"Too late for that," Robert said. He punched Edmund in the stomach. Hard.
Edmund doubled over, gasping, but the men held him upright.
A woman pulled Edmund's head up by his hair and slapped him across the face. Margaret struck him twice more, each blow sharp and deliberate.
Blood was pouring from Edmund's nose now, from a cut above his eye. His expensive coat was torn, covered in dirt and blood.
Alex stayed back, watching. Every instinct screamed at him to look away, to stop this, but he forced himself to stand still. Lisa stood beside him, her face unreadable.
"Where's Mary?" someone shouted. "Where's the girl?"
"At... at the manor..." Edmund gasped through broken lips. "She's at the manor..."
"Someone get her!" Margaret yelled.
But they didn't need to.
A small figure pushed through the crowd.
Mary.